


I Love Life (But Life's Got A Boyfriend)

by DefaltManifesto



Series: Becoming a Pack [28]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Break Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the pages, Danny watched Derek struggle to admit he wasn't in control. In real life, Danny watched Stiles try desperately to stay in control, because admitting he'd lost it was scarier than the self-blame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love Life (But Life's Got A Boyfriend)

**Author's Note:**

> Blanket apology for this fic. If it helps, Danny/Stiles will be a thing again. Title taken from Death For My Birthday by Say Anything.

[The tumblr](http://schizzar.tumblr.com)

 

Danny hovered outside the door, which was stupid really, because if Derek was actually there he'd know Danny was standing there. He still felt like he wasn't worthy of just waltzing in like the rest of the pack. Sure he'd helped save them but...

The door opened, cutting off Danny's train of thought.

"Sorry, I was getting tired of waiting," Isaac said, leaning against the doorway.

"Right, is Derek here?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, upstairs," Isaac said, jerking his head towards the staircase. "Is everything okay?"

"Mostly, yeah," Danny said as he stepped inside. He kicked off his shoes. "Why?"

Isaac shrugged as he shut the door. "Just...you usually don't come here for help if it's not pack related."

Isaac didn't _sound_ stand-offish, so Danny was pretty sure he was imagining the possessive note in Isaac's voice.

"Well, no one's dying. Can I just..." Danny trailed off, feeling painfully awkward.

"Yeah, yeah. Let him know I'm going out okay?" Isaac said.

He didn't wait for Danny to reply as he headed for the kitchen. Danny shook his head to clear it and headed up the stairs. He felt sick almost as he did so. Flashes of memory from the night he last ascended the same stairs forced their way to the forefront of his mind. The pain and terror of everything he'd _known_ about actually happening in front of him. He shoved the thoughts down because that was not what he was here for.

Derek's door was open and Danny gave it a cursory knock before stepping inside. Derek sat at a desk tucked away against a window that overlooked the expansive backyard. He typed away on a laptop and the action was so mundane and just... _human_ , it made Danny pause. It was hard to put Derek in the category of normal, perhaps because Danny had only ever known him as a weird, Alpha werewolf and...Miguel, but Danny wasn't sure that counted.

"Not often you come here on your own," Derek said, pushing his seat back so he could turn and face Danny.

"Haven't had much of a reason to," Danny said. "Besides, Jackson's been here and he's been pretty...clingy when it comes to you guys and I didn't want to interrupt a good thing."

"Point taken. So why are you here? And where's Isaac?" Derek asked.

"He uh, went out," Danny said. He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. He knew what he wanted to say, but the words felt like they were caught in his throat. He twisted his hands together and started to pace a bit, unable to stop himself.

"It's just, I tried talking to Boyd about it-"

"It?" Derek asked.

Danny glanced up at him for half a second. "Mine and Stiles' relationship."

"Right."

Danny started to pace again and the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. "And Boyd said to just _talk_ to him about it so I did, which sorta worked but I just got the feeling he was saying what I wanted to hear you know?"

"Right..."

"And I don't know how to get him to be honest with me and I love him and I want to help but I can't because I get this feeling that he's trying to protect me from like...himself. Which is dumb because I'm not mad at him for what he did or something. F-for killing. It wasn't his fault-" Danny stopped himself when his words started to shake and all at once he realized he had dumped all of his problems on Derek's lap and Derek was just staring at him and- "Sorry."

"No, no, you're fine," Derek said, his voice surprisingly gentle as he got to his feet. "Obviously this has been a problem for a while. It's good that you mentioned it."

Derek folded his arms across his chest, expression unreadable as he fell silent, thinking. After a moment, he moved passed Danny and headed for the stairs.

"Follow me."

Danny obeyed, following Derek down to the basement, which, unlike the rest of the house, was far from modern. There were lights at least, but the floor was cement and everything seemed horribly unorganized. To the left were a couple of shelves against the wall containing canned goods, but the rest of the room was devoted to a mismatched combination of furniture and boxes. Some of it looked charred and Danny realized with a jolt that the furniture was what managed to survive the fire.

Derek headed over to a heavy looking wooden chest, ornate designs carved into the outside. There wasn't a lock on it and Derek opened it without any sort of dramatic flourish, rooting around and then pulling out a small leather-bound journal. He turned towards Danny and handed it to him.

"I wrote about the fire in that. I wrote down everything about it in there. How I thought it was my fault. That contains how horrible and guilty I felt. I was not ready to be fixed or helped when I wrote it and I certainly wasn't in a place where a relationship would be helpful," Derek said. "I think reading that...you might get some insight on what Stiles' is feeling. Obviously we went through different things but..."

Derek trailed off and shrugged, suddenly looking awkward and uncomfortable.

"Are...are you sure you trust me with this?" Danny asked. "This is a lot and you don't really know me."

"You're pack. You're Jackson's best friend. You care about Stiles. You risked your life for the rest of us," Derek said. "Why shouldn't I trust you?"

"You just don't seem like a...trusting person."

"I'm learning still. I'm hardly perfect. Just read it and think about it and then talk to Stiles," Derek said.

Danny started to turn for the stairs and then paused. "You think we should break up, don't you?"

Derek gave another shrug. "Maybe. It's not my relationship, but...read it okay? I think it articulates what I'm trying to say better than whatever I say right now."

"Okay. Thanks. Really."

"Of course. That's what I'm here for."

 

-.-

 

Danny had to force himself to finish his homework before he cracked open Derek's journal. It was hard to stay focused on school when there was so much other _crap_ he had to deal with on the side, but he knew he really didn't have a choice. He had to keep up the facade that he was normal to stop his parents from worrying. It was late by the time he finished his homework but he started to read anyways.

The first few entries were hard to read, painful even. There was an unexpected amount of vulnerability in the journal entries because despite knowing the general story, Danny couldn't quite get the image of Derek as a responsible Alpha out of his head. Reading the deep self-loathing, the nonsensical circular arguments to justify the self-blame showed a side to Derek that was at odds with everything Danny knew about him. And it hurt because he could _see_ Stiles in the scrawled words, see his fear and anxiety splayed out over Derek's writing, because even if their situations were totally different, at the core, Danny saw what the problem was.

They had lost control. In Derek's case, it happened over a stretch of time, and Kate's betrayal itself was the moment of complete control. For Stiles, it was all at once. Danny knew that. Had witnessed it. Stiles lost control of the situation for a few seconds and that was all it took, because in those few seconds, he'd been forced to kill to survive. On the pages, Danny watched Derek struggle to admit he wasn't in control. In real life, Danny watched Stiles try desperately to stay _in_ control, because admitting he'd lost it was scarier than the self-blame.

Of course, _knowing_ what Stiles was feeling didn't mean he knew how to help. His gut instinct was to go to Stiles and make him understand that Danny _did_ understand and loved him anyways, show him that he had no real reason to blame himself. That blaming himself was just a crutch. At the same time, Danny knew there was some truth to what Derek had said. Stiles was lost, but no matter what Danny said, he knew it'd fall on deaf ears. Stiles needed to reach Danny's conclusions on his own because otherwise it would never really stick in a way that could help him.

Which meant Danny was going to have to remove himself from the equation. It was wrong to force Stiles to maintain a relationship, even if they did want it, when it was a relationship built on lying about himself and pretending he was okay. Danny closed Derek's journal and curled up on his bed, angled away from the window. He didn't bother trying to hold the tears in. He let it out and pretended he'd feel better when he woke up in the morning.

 

-.-

 

Anxiety twisted in Danny's gut as he pulled into Stiles' driveway two days later. He had a sinking suspicion that Stiles knew exactly what he was there to talk about. There was a resigned and tired note in Stiles' voice when he agreed to hang out. It made Danny wish he could erase the last few months.

He let himself in to the Stilinski household. Stiles was sprawled out on his stomach on the couch, remote dangling from his hand as he flipped through channels. He pushed himself up when Danny got closer to the couch. Danny was struck by the urge to bundle Stiles up in blankets and make him sleep because he looked well...awful. He took a seat in the space Stiles had made room for.

"Hey," Danny said.

Stiles slumped against Danny's shoulder. "Just...can we get this over with?"

Danny tensed and then wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist to tug him closer. "That obvious, am I?"

Stiles snorted. "Dude, literally, you said 'we need to talk'. It's actually impossible to get more obvious than that. If it helps any, if you don't do it now, I will."

Danny closed his eyes and kissed the top of Stiles head. He stayed there for a second, face tucked into Stiles' hair before finally muttering, "I'm breaking up with you."

Stiles deflated and then shifted to straddle Danny's lap to bury his face into Danny's chest. "Knew it was happening but...yup, still hurts."

"I'm sorry," Danny said. He settled his arms around Stiles' lower back. "I just...you need to figure out what you're doing before you can be in a relationship. I mean, I shouldn't be telling you what you need, but I don't think our relationship is going to help you."

"You're right. I...Erica and I have been sorta...hurting each other?" Stiles' voice was quiet, hesitant, and Danny clamped down on his knee-jerk reaction to start yelling at him, not wanting to scare Stiles into not saying anything at all. "I mean, we've been fighting. It's less dangerous than what we were doing, but it's not good. I think we've stopped. Last time was...bad. We're still figuring it out."

Danny held him tighter. "I wish I could help both of you. I just...I don't know how. I love you though, okay? Like, relationship or not, I fucking care about you."

"I know, I know," Stiles mumbled into Danny's chest. "I love you too, Danny. I mean it. But...I need to figure out myself and if I'm worrying about us I...can't."

Danny pushed Stiles back a bit so he could cradle Stiles' head in his hands. "I know. That's why I'm doing this. You can still talk to me because I want to help but I won't push you."

"Thanks," Stiles said, eyes sliding shut.

"And if you want...Derek gave me this journal. I think maybe it could help you too," Danny said, dropping his hands back down to Stiles' waist. "I can ask if I can give it to you."

Stiles curled up against him. "That...yeah. I'm pretty much grasping at straws at this point so I'll take anything."

Danny couldn't help but kiss his temple. "Alright. You want me to stay for right now?"

Stiles let out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Just...hold me for awhile?"

"I can do that."

 

-.-

 

Danny stayed with Stiles for a few hours, but after texting Derek for permission, he left the journal in Stiles' care and left. When he was halfway home, he realized he was crying and that was why his vision was so blurry. He pulled over and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. It hurt, not being in an official relationship with Stiles. It was stupid because it was the right choice but it still hurt.

It certainly didn't help that he felt entirely alone. Which, alright, that was dumb because Derek had already confirmed that he was pack so he could lean on anyone he wanted; he _knew_ that. But there was only one person he wanted to talk to. He hesitated anyways though. He didn't want to be too needy. That didn't stop him from eventually pulling out his phone and hitting speed dial for Jackson's cellphone.

"Hello?" Jackson's voice was muzzy with sleep.

"Hey can I...can I come over?" Danny's voice shook and he could almost hear Jackson come to full alertness.

"Are you okay? Shit, Danny, tell me you're okay," Jackson said.

"I just need my best friend, yeah?"

"Yeah. Get your ass over here."

Danny hung up. He didn't really remember the actual drive to Jackson's house. It wasn't a panic attack or anything like that, he just felt like he was standing alone at the edge of the cliff and no one was there to help. He did remember knocking on Jackson's door, but after that it was just a blur of tears. When he was finally back in his right mind, he was curled up on Jackson's bed with Jackson spooned up against his back.

"Shit, sorry," Danny said, turning his face into the pillow. "I wasn't really expecting that."

"Yeah, it's okay," Jackson said. "So do I have to punch Stilinski or what?"

Danny frowned and twisted away to put space between them and look Jackson in the eyes. "Wait, did I say something?"

"I pretty much only caught Stiles' name. The rest was just a lot of incoherent crying."

Danny groaned in embarrassment. "Awesome. We barely talk for weeks and _this_ is how I rekindle our friendship." He flopped onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes.

"Admittedly, I ...pretty much just hung around Isaac and Derek," Jackson said. "I should've been paying more attention."

"No, don't even start with that," Danny said, reaching out with his free hand to smack Jackson's chest. "You needed to sort out your shit and it was way above my pay grade. No hard feelings."

"Alright. But I'm here now, okay? You've got me. Whatever you need, I'm 100% on your side, alright?" Jackson grabbed Danny's hand and twined their fingers together.

"Got it."            


End file.
